


No Cure for the Common Birthday (Five good birthdays Dean had, and one that sucked out loud)

by dotfic



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-24
Updated: 2008-01-24
Packaged: 2017-10-29 16:20:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/321777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dotfic/pseuds/dotfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Set pre-series-future. Brief mention of sexuality.</p>
    </blockquote>





	No Cure for the Common Birthday (Five good birthdays Dean had, and one that sucked out loud)

**Author's Note:**

> Set pre-series-future. Brief mention of sexuality.

  


29

Exhaustion made Dean's vision blur; his shoulder hurt like a bitch. But as Sam spoke the final words of the exorcism in a voice gone scratchy, Dean grinned.

"What?"

"Nothin'."

It had been a long day and half a night, playing cats and mice with four demons. Staying quiet when in motion, talking about nothing in particular while they waited, thermoses of coffee warming their hands.

Sam didn't say it because Dean had told him not to.

He had aches and new stories about Sam's time at Stanford as souvenirs.

Dean could think of worse ways to mark the date.

11

"Dude, the numbers don't lie."

"I call a do-over."

"No do-overs."

Sammy was nearly doubled over laughing.

The waitress clicked her pen. "You going to order?"

"My boy beat me at pinball," Dad told the waitress. "I'm getting rusty in my old age."

"Uh-huh." She sounded bored.

"Bet's a bet," Dad added.

Dean ordered, asking for every topping he could think off, including pineapple.

After Sam ordered, Dad whispered something in the waitress' ear.

When the sundaes arrived, Dean's had a sparkler stuck in his.

He could never be certain.

But he thought Dad might have thrown that particular game.

45

The party was small, but still more of them gathered under one roof than he'd seen in years for anything other than a death or a hunting strategy session.

Dean scooped up the tow-headed boy running down the hall in pursuit of a brown-haired girl. "Dude. What gives?"

The boy squirmed in Dean's arms. "Amy stole my vid phone and won't give it back."

Adjusting to the idea of six-year-olds carrying vid phones was nothing compared to the warm amazement that still hit him at moments, that the child currently fixing him with a fierce, green-eyed glare was his _son_.

22

Dad got a call from an old buddy about a pack of black dogs outside Saginaw, so Dean took care of the haunting in Rhode Island alone.

His father called to wish him a happy birthday, sounded rushed, had to hang up fast when someone shouted at him in the background.

By sundown, the call he wanted hadn't come.

Instead of heading out to a bar, he bought a bottle of whiskey and got slowly, deliberately hammered in his motel room.

In the morning, he had a killer hangover and a voicemail message from Sam.

Dean didn't call him back.

16

Before school, Dad gave him a new flannel shirt. Sam made him a mix tape.

He got wind of a kegger, some kid's birthday party, and decided to crash it.

Her name was Sheri. Dean didn't tell her, or anyone, it was his birthday. She let him feel her up, and with her skin hot under his fingers, he pretty much didn't give a crap whose birthday it was, it could've the Dalai Lama's or Ray Harryhausen's.

Dean walked home alone listening to Sam's mix tape, the flannel a layer of warmth under his jacket. The shadows didn't bother him.

30

No surprises, Dean said, under pain of truly excruciating death.

 _Okay_ , Sam said, and told him what he was planning.

So he was prepared for the horror when Bobby, Ellen, Jo, and Sam began singing.

Sam had put thirty candles on the chocolate cake, plus one. In Bobby's darkened kitchen, the flames burned bright, shadows dancing warm over their faces.

He didn't make a wish when he blew out the candles. Couldn't get his mind to think far enough ahead of what he'd already been given back to wish.

Right then, he didn't need more than what he already had.


End file.
